Seven Hundred and Fifty Dollars
by bisexualcharliedavis
Summary: Ivy cannot believe that Nettle just spent 750 on a single locker that seemed to be full of junk.


/storage wars au bc h8rs said it was a bad au lmao. No real warnings. Lots of femslash and girls loving girls here tho so I hope I can scratch someone's femslash itch :-)

"Sasha I swear to God this had better be worth it." Ivy complained, as she watched her fianceé drag the box out of the dusty storage cupboard into the light.

"Babe, when have I ever been wrong?" The red head replied, standing back to admire the small space she'd been able to clear in the locker.

"I won't be your babe for much longer if this doesn't pan out." She warned, tossing the white part of her two toned hair over her shoulder. Nettle rolled her eyes, and produced a boxcutter from the depths of her brown messenger bag she always took when they went to these types of functions. "I know you don't even like this locker, Sash. You just wanted to beat Cedric." Ivy continued, placing herself atop one of the more sturdy looking boxes, folding one leg over the other. Under the hem of her dress, her tiny feet with neatly painted black toes emerged, like a boat capsized on a stormy fabric ocean. Perhaps she was a bit of a diva in such situations but she just didn't like the dust.

"So what if I did?" She asked, casually. Nettle and Cedric had been going at it since the both of them started around the same time. Of course, Ivy herself had barely noticed, she'd been swept up in trying to make money herself. She had to keep her apartment and keep away from her family.

"What did he even do to you, anyway?"

"Nothing. I just hate him." Ivy has been with Nettle long enough to know when she was lying, and this was certainly a lie. But Nettle never pressed her when she didn't want to talk, so she returned the favour. Nettle finally got the box open, and proceeded to dump the paper on top onto the floor, and began to laugh.

Ivy raised one neat eyebrow (she had considered getting one dyed white to match her hair but decided against it on the basis that it would look silly). Nettle held up a pair of jeans with 'Juicy" written across the arse.

"Look!" She said, with a snort. Ivy rolled her eyes and stood, moving over to help Nettle clear out the contents of the box. It seemed to be an untouched time capsule from the mid 2000s, mostly pants and shoes.

"Did we really wear high heeled thongs?" Nettle asked, picking up a pair of thongs that were probably meant to go with the pants. Ivy rolled her eyes, ignored her fianceé for the time being and opened her phone to look at prices. Nettle was still pulling clothes from the box at her feet.

"I think we have three suits in here and two pairs of shoes." She reported.

"Do they have the tags attached?" Of course Nettle would never think to look at that herself, she rarely considered the smaller aspects of things she did, it really wasn't in her nature. Conversley, Ivy often didn't see the bigger picture so that was what made them a good team.

"Uh." Pause. "Yeah!"

"Well, unworn, good quality, well known brand, I reckon we've got one hundred and fifty dollars worth of velvet sweatpants Hell right there." Nettle grinned in a way that Ivy would go to Hell before admitting melted her heart.

"You still have to find another six hundred dollars in there so don't give me that look quite yet." She said, sitting back on her box and watching Nettle tape the box closed again and writing '$150 – sweatpants' on the top in her sweet cursive handwriting. She'd not always done that, this was Ivy, convincing her that if she knew what was in the boxes then it wouldn't be as hard to find them back at the store.

Nettle vanished back into the storage shed, and Ivy produced a file from the depths of her pockets and began to work the diamond grit back and fourth over her pointer finger, carefully rounding out the edges of her natural square nails. She didn't want anything too sharp, because she usually ended up stabbing herself with them, but she did went them softened so that they would stop catching on everything.

"Babe!" Sliding her file away, Ivy stood and went into the locker to see what had caught Nettle's attention. "Is this right up your alley or what?" Ivy was floored. The item in question was a bed end for a double bed. It had spires on either side, slightly cone shaped with white painted vines crawling their way up the little towers. Accenting each of the spires was a black butterfly, dainty wings glossy with varnish and shining in the murky yellow bulb above their heads. She looked over at Nettle, who had already moved on to going through a box of old magazines and kids books, no longer interested in the beautiful bed head.

"It's beautiful." Ivy replied, putting her arms around the smaller's waist and giving her a hug from behind. It took Nettle a few moments, but she hugged back.  
"If you're into that." She replied, and Ivy pressed her face into the back of her neck. Her hair was soft and smelled like flower shampoo. "We're not putting that thing in our bedroom."

"Please Sasha…I'll be on my best-est behavior."

"Weren't you telling me we need to make as much money as possible for your fairytale wedding?"

"Well, yes. But that was before I saw this!" Nettle sighed and blew dust off the front of a 'barbie travels' magazine.

"Fine. But the one we have has to go into the shop." Pause. "And I get to pick the bedspread."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"Learned from the best." She sighed, knowing full well Nettle would pick the brightest most floral bedspread she could find.

"Alright." She said, releasing her hips.

"You think we can sell these magazines?" Ivy picked one up and flipped through.

'A dollar each?"

"Seventy five cents, more like."

"How many are there?"

"Like….Forty, I think?

"That's like thirty bucks. Not bad for magazines."

"Hm." Nettle replied closing the box and writing 'magazines -75c' on the top in her thick black permanent marker.

They split after that, Nettle on the left and Ivy on the right, going through the boxes of mostly junk, only speaking up when they came across a high ticket item. Eventually, they began chatting about the others, having little else to discuss at the time being.

"I can't believe Roland spent over a thousand on that pissy little one right away."

"He's rich anyway. One of his brats wanted it. The purple one."  
"Sofia?"  
"I think so."

"Surprised Miranda wasn't around."  
"She's running the store I think. She hurt her wrist...What...When did you have to go see your old professor about that wand thing-y?" Hm.

"About five weeks ago?"  
"Hasn't been out since." Ivy said, of course she was the one who kept track on the others, Nettle mostly only focused on selecting units. "You think he found something?"

"I hope he did, for that much." She replied, coughing after stirring up dust. Ivy waded through her ocean of garbage to rub her back while she coughed up half a lung.

"Jesus." Nettle said, as she stopped coughing. Whatever it was, it was dusty as Hell.  
"Prefer Ivy." She replied, opening the dusty box with a little more care then Nettle had.

"What the He-"

"Hello?" Speak of the Devil, she thought, turning around to face the tall and somewhat imposing Roland Winsor, known as 'The King' by most of those around these parts for his money background and his somewhat extravagant lifestyle. He addressed Ivy.

"Uh. Are you Sasha Nettle?"

"That would be me, actually." Nettle said, moving some boxes so they weren't blocking her from his view. Christ this locker was overstuffed.

"Oh."  
"A problem?" Nettle asked, in that knife edge tone she often used when addressing people who had offended her. The girl held a grudge and Ivy appreciated that.

"No, no. I just. I thought you would be taller." Nettle's face darkened. She hated being reminded of how short she was. She was (if Ivy's guess was correct) about five foot, or five and a half on a good day. At six foot two, Roland basically towered over her. Ivy takes over before Nettle says something she regrets and costs them a possible alliance with someone much more powerful then they were.

"What can we do for you?" She asked. Pause.  
"I didn't get your name." Roland said, with a charming smile, that, if not for her being gay, might have come across as attractive, rather then slightly predatory.

"Ivy."  
"Ivy…?" Pause.

"Ivy Nettle." Roland frowns gently, but pushes the face aside, clearly trying to work their relationship out.  
"What do you want?" Nettle asked, folding her arms firmly over her chest.

"My daughter, Amber, was walking past before, and she saw that dress there." He said, indicating to a clothes rack that Ivy had already priced, and decided to keep jeans with distressed thighs covered in slim gold chains for herself. The dress in question was yellow, with a petit star pattern in small constellations, in a size that she supposed would fit a young girl. It was yellow, so she had assumed it was more Nettle's department. "And I was wondering if I could buy it from you? For a worthwhile price, of course." Ivy glanced at Nettle, who remained unimpressed. She usually was by anyone who commented on her height. She looked up at Ivy.

"Did you price those already?"

"Yeah. I think that one was like twenty bucks?" It was, like most of the clothes, not worn with the tag still attached. The tag said twenty dollars, so that's what she was selling it for.

"How does that sound?" Nettle asked. Roland nodded, and produced his leather wallet. Inside, Ivy could see a family picture next to his license. Him, Miranda, and his three kids. He handed her a crisp twenty dollar note, while Nettle waded through the crap to get the dress for him, and handed it over.

Ivy tucked it away inside her own wallet, pausing to admire the picture in there of herself and Nettle taken a few days after she had proposed. They're standing under a tree, and she has roses in her hair. Their dog, Rosy, is running around their ankles barking. They look so happy. She's (not for the first time) glad to be away from her family, and glad to have found one of her own.

"Uh. I didn't mean to offend you with the comment about your height. I've just...Never seen you in the crowd just your… Sister?"

"Fianceé."

"Sorry." Nettle gave him one of those 'I forgive you but im still gonna give you a hard time' looks Ivy had seen directed at various people in their lives over the past five years.

"Happens often." She remarked.

"Tell Miranda we said we hope she feels better." Ivy said, with a smile. He nods, and drapes the dress gently over his arm.

"Have a good evening, ladies." He said, turning, and walking away, distantly, they heard a girl screaming in rapture at receiving the dress. Even Nettle, who usually disliked children, has a little smile on her face.

"Don't tell me you want kids all of a sudden." She commented, picking her dusty box back up.

"Don't be ridiculous." Nettle said, rolling her eyes. "So. What is that?" Ivy opened the lid and showed her. An actual real life crystal ball.

"We'll have to take it to be evaluated." Nettle said, frowning. "But it could be worth some money."

"Maybe you did pick a good locker after all." Ivy teased, putting the box on top of the other things they were going to take back to the shop.

It took hours, but when they'd finished emptying the locker, Ivy stood back to look at their pile of stuff. All and all, there was about a thousand dollars worth of stuff to sell back at the shop, as well as the crystal ball for evaluation. So Nettle had picked well. This time. Nettle had tossed the last of the stuff they couldn't sell into the back of her car to take the dump and dispose of, and stopped next to her.

"You ever wonder who's stuff we just took?"  
"Sometimes."

"Or why they couldn't pay for the locker?"

"Sometimes."

"Are we bad people, for profiting off others misfortune?"

"Maybe." Ivy sighed deeply, and looked around. Cedric was still bumbling around, being annoying with one of his lockers, and Roland had left hours ago.

"What's all this about?" She asked, folding her arms.  
"Nothing, nothing. Just. Thinking, I guess."

"Well that's good. Come on, we have work to do yet." Pause. She frowned, and put a hand on Ivy's arm, her green painted nails contrasting with her white shirt. "Something's not right."

"I'm just..I'm glad I met you, is all. If not, I imagine it would be my locker they're selling right now." Nettle put her hands on Ivy's hips, and pulled her in for a kiss.

"I doubt it. You're pretty good at being resourceful and such." Ivy kissed her again, soft and chaste.

"You flatter me, darling."

"I live to please." She murmured against the other's lips.

"There's still people here!" Cedric called from two lockers down. "Take it outback!" Nettle laughed, a pleasant breath of air brushing her lips. Taking her by the hand, she let Nettle lead her out to their packed cars.


End file.
